


speak not a whispered word

by graysonofgotham (cruel_oath)



Series: the shadowed perch [1]
Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Undercover Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:53:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26962462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cruel_oath/pseuds/graysonofgotham
Summary: Infiltrating the Light had been easy. Gaining their trust so they can uncover the truth behind their mysterious partner... not so much. Improvising isn't an issue for Nightwing, but there's just one teeny, tiny problem...Artemis turned the mission down.
Series: the shadowed perch [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2006629
Comments: 23
Kudos: 115





	speak not a whispered word

**Author's Note:**

> This is kinda (but not really) a rewrite of a fic that I wrote a long, LONG time ago.
> 
> At this stage, this is it. I don't know if I'll write more, considering it took me MONTHS to write this much, but I do have ideas if people are interested. Just, y'know, don't be pushy about it.
> 
> (Thank you to [Marrissa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghoul_FunGhoul/pseuds/Ghoul_FunGhoul) for reading through this and making me hate it less.)

Nightwing returns to his Blüdhaven apartment a little after two in the morning, silently slipping in through the window. The moment he has the window locked and the curtain drawn, exhaustion hits him hard―even with all his years of experience, all his training, it felt as though he was just barely keeping his head above water.

Since Batman and the other Leaguers who attacked Rimbor under Vandal Savage’s influence left to stand trial, it had fallen to Dick and the other senior members of the team to pick up much of the slack. He, M’gann, and Conner each had to fill the shoes of their mentors to keep the public from discovering that several key figures of the Justice League were off-world, and so far things have been working out. M’gann had little problems fooling everyone with her shapeshifting, Conner could at least fake flying if he jumped in just the right way, and if anyone had noticed that Batman was shorter than he was two weeks ago, nobody had said a word.

They’re managing, just like he had told Batman they would before he left. As thin as they’re stretched, they’ve got the League covered, and Dick is more than willing to accept any victory, no matter how small.

Dick peels off his mask, glancing over at his clock―he doesn’t have work today, Canary’s covering training for the next few days, and he’s not putting on the cape and cowl tonight. He trudges over to the bathroom, mentally prepared for a hot shower before he crashes for twelve hours... 

...only to stop in his tracks when he feels the burner phone in his belt vibrate.

Dick takes the phone out of its pouch, finding a single notification.

_ Wharf. 1 hour. Come to the usual spot. _

With a tired sigh, Dick sticks the domino mask back onto his face. It probably wouldn’t hurt if he got a quick patrol in, anyway.

* * *

Thankfully, Blüdhaven is quiet tonight. Thursday nights almost always are, which is usually why Nightwing devotes it exclusively to training the newbies. Still, as slow as things are, he does encounter a robbery at the local bodega. It was a bit messier and time-consuming than he would’ve liked, but he  _ did  _ get a cup of okay-ish coffee out of it.

In the end, Nightwing arrives at the warehouse a little before three, entering through an underground passage he had installed a few months back via the sewer system. He pulls up his holographic computer interface as he makes his way to the receiving area of the warehouse, checking the cameras for any would-be intruders. After determining that the area is clear, he disables the security system entirely and closes out, casting himself in darkness.

He doesn’t have to wait long for his contact to arrive―Nightwing hears the harsh clattering of the receiving doors as they open and shut, followed by quiet footsteps.

“We’re clear.”

Nightwing emerges from the shadows, finding himself face-to-face with Kaldur. In lieu of a greeting, he simply asks, “What’s up?”

“It would seem gaining the Light’s trust is far more complicated than you and I had anticipated, my friend,” Kaldur says. “Though I can now confirm the identities of many of their allies, I have yet to hear of anything more than a few whispers of their partner.”

Nightwing’s brow furrows in frustration. Admittedly, he’s not surprised―it seemed as though the Light was two steps ahead of them no matter what they did―but he thought that Malina Island would’ve finally been their ticket in.

“We’ve gotta do something bigger,” Nightwing says. “Something… something that’ll fool both sides.”

“We have little time.” Kaldur hands a flash drive to Nightwing. “In two weeks, Ferris Aircraft and the Justice League will be launching an Earth-Mars communication satellite. I have been given the task to destroy it―likely another test.”

Nightwing stows the flash drive away in his utility belt. “I might have an idea, but I’ll need to pay someone a visit. I know we agreed to keep this between us, but I’m starting to think you’re going to need someone on the inside who has your back.”

Kaldur hesitates. “Very well. Manta has business in Blüdhaven and will be here for another day―I should have no trouble meeting with you again tomorrow, but we will need to keep it brief.”

“Understood. I’ll think of something.”

“I know you will, Dick.” Kaldur puts on his helm. “Be careful.”

“You, too.” Nightwing disappears into the shadows, watching as Kaldur leaves the warehouse. 

He waits a few minutes before securing the warehouse, walking back towards the passage leading to Blüdhaven’s sewer system. As he makes his way through the sewers, he considers the right person to send on such a dangerous mission.

Right out of the gate, Nightwing rules out all of the newbies―aside from them being far too inexperienced for a deep-cover mission, almost all of them were minors, and he  _ knows  _ none of their guardians would  _ ever  _ agree to such a mission. He also rules out a handful of the more seasoned members of the team―Karen wouldn’t want to get involved without bringing Mal into it, and after what happened with Jason, he’s hesitant to let Barbara or Tim get tangled up in this operation.

Upon reemerging from the sewer system in a mostly abandoned alleyway, Nightwing grapples up one of Blüdhaven’s skyscrapers. Logically, he knows that the best person to get involved is someone the Light perceives as someone Kaldur was close to―after all, what better way to cut ties with your old life than to cause serious harm to someone you once cared for? But with M’gann and Conner butting heads, Nightwing isn’t left with very many options.

It doesn’t take long for Nightwing to return home (again). As he changes out of his gear and into something more comfortable, he runs through the few candidates he has left. Finally, he decides there’s only one person right for the job.

Dick sends a text through his personal phone, knowing he won’t get a reply for another few hours. Wearily, he drags himself to bed, not bothering to set an alarm.

He has a feeling that this will be his last chance to get a solid night of sleep for a while.

* * *

When Dick wakes up in the early afternoon, he finds a reply waiting for him.

As far as Artemis knows, he’s in Palo Alto for a case and has a little time to spare before he has to get back down to business. Naturally, Artemis doesn’t ask any questions.

**Fartie:** _i'd be down to hang_  
**Fartie:** _wally's on a class trip tho so he can't make it_

_ Well,  _ Dick thinks,  _ that’s going to make things a little easier. _

Since Tula’s death, Wally hadn’t exactly been as… passionate about the hero life, not like he had been when they were younger. He had claimed that he left to focus on school, and Dick’s sure that was part of it, but he has a hunch that Wally had envisioned Artemis in a similar situation―sacrificing herself for the greater good, even if that meant hurting those she loved. 

Thing is, Artemis  _ would  _ have if she had been in Tula’s shoes. That’s the kind of person she is. That had to have scared Wally, and maybe it scared Artemis, too, but… Dick always did wonder if she had been one hundred percent behind the decision to leave the life behind.

(That, or he’s trying to make himself feel less guilty for going behind his best friend’s back.)

**You:** _bummer :(_  
**You:** _still it'll be nice to catch up!_  
**Fartie:** _definitely! i've got a volunteer shift until 3:00, but i should be good for any time after!_  
**You:** _6-ish work for you?_  
**Fartie:** _yeah!_  
**Fartie:** _and i'm paying this time! you always treat us!_ _  
_**You:** _nuh uh. you pick what you want and i’ll swing by your place with it_

Artemis responds with her order along with the address and phone number of a Thai restaurant that Dick’s pretty sure he’s passed on his way to and from her and Wally’s place. He locks his phone and sets it down on the nightstand, finally climbing out of bed to get ready for the day.

* * *

Hours later, Dick and Artemis are seated on her couch, catching up over containers of green curry and fried rice. Their conversation moves quickly, going from talking about their day to this one particular dog at Artemis’s shelter  _ finally  _ getting adopted after being there for  _ years  _ to the latest of Gar’s pranks that Dick fell victim to. After a solid minute and a half of laughter, there’s a lull in the conversation.

That’s when he remembers he came here for a reason. He takes a minute to catch his breath before he nudges the conversation into a more serious direction. “So, how have things been for you and Wally lately?”

“Things have been great,” Artemis says. “It’s been hectic with our upcoming internships and schoolwork, and between that, my volunteer work, and caring for Brucely, we don’t have a lot of free time, but I wouldn’t change it for the world. This is going to sound so silly, Dick, but this really is the happiest I’ve ever been.”

Dick smiles, struggling to push back the wave of guilt. “I’m glad. You and Wally, you two  _ deserve  _ to be happy.”

There’s a subtle change to Artemis’s expression, one that says she knows there’s something up. She doesn’t ask about it, to Dick’s relief, and instead pushes the conversation forward. “What about you? What have you been getting yourself into lately?”

Dick winces. “Honestly… not a whole lot. Not socially, anyway.”

Artemis gives him a sympathetic smile. “Right… Nightwing’s got a lot on his plate right now, doesn’t he?”

“He’s managing.”

She takes his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I know we’re not on the team anymore, but Wally and I, we have your back. You know that, right?”

Dick believes her. After a moment, he confesses, “I’m not actually here on a case.”

Artemis raises an eyebrow, prompting him to continue.

“There’s something I need help with. A mission that’s gotten… complicated. I can’t ask the newbies, I don’t want to get Babs and Tim involved, and Conner and M’gann have been too busy fighting amongst themselves to be of any use. Artemis, I know that you and Wally have built lives here and I  _ hate  _ to ask this of you, but you’re the only one I can turn to.”

Her expression becomes unreadable. The room grows quiet. For several long seconds, Dick waits for her response, growing increasingly more anxious.

His heart falls to the pit of his stomach when Artemis’s expression turns apologetic.

“Dick, I’m so sorry,” she says, “but I can’t.”

As hard as he tries, Dick can’t stop his neutral expression from slipping. Artemis catches it before he can correct it, adding, “It’s not that I don’t want to. You know I would help in a heartbeat, but… there’s so much going on right now. Wally and I, we’ve worked so hard to―”

“No, I get it,” Dick says, offering her a smile. “I’ll… I’ll find another way. I always do.”

* * *

When Dick leaves Palo Alto, an idea comes to him. A terrible, awful,  _ brilliant _ idea.

He considers the logistics as he patrols Blüdhaven―he  _ could _ pull it off on his own, but that wouldn't fool some of the more skeptical members of either the Light or the League. He still needs to bring someone in, someone he could trust to keep such a secret, but he feels more at ease knowing they'd be safe.

By the time Nightwing enters the warehouse, he has a solid plan. He has a name of an ally he can trust to keep both his and Kaldur's secrets, one who will understand his line of thinking and will go along with it (hopefully without berating him too much). He's thought of everything that could possibly go wrong, considered every detail that might set off red flags.

He only hopes that his friends and family will forgive him when all this is over.

"You are certain you want to go through with this?" Kaldur asks, brows furrowed with concern.

"It's the only real option we have left," Nightwing says. "If you have a better idea, I'm all ears, but... I can't imagine a better way into the Light's inner circle than taking out one of the biggest thorns in their side."

"You are right... but I do not think the team will completely recover. I do not think your  _ family _ will recover."

"With all due respect, Kal, I think we passed that point when we staged your betrayal."

"I cannot deny that." Kaldur's expression becomes stoic. "I shall make the necessary preparations on my end. I do not believe we will have another opportunity to meet before that point."

"We'll wing it," Nightwing says, keeping his tone light.

For the first time since all of this began, Kaldur smiles. "Then I will see you on the other side."

* * *

Two weeks later, their plan is put into action.

Behind them, the Earth-Mars communication satellite is set to launch. Superboy and Batgirl fend off manta troopers left and right while Miss Martian and Lagoon Boy do the same in the water. Nightwing and Kaldur trade blows on the beach of Cape Canaveral, waiting for just the right moment to strike.

It proves to be more difficult than he initially anticipated―between Kaldur making things look good and the sheer number of manta troopers, Nightwing wastes too much time securing an opening. The satellite launches, leaving Kaldur no choice but to fire a missile.

Nightwing manages to take it out with an explosive batarang before it gets out of range. For a brief moment, the chaos around them dies away. He begins to turn away from the satellite, ready to pick up where he left off―

“Nightwing, behind you!”

Batgirl rushes forward, leaving Nightwing seconds to prepare himself before she’s thrown out of Kaldur’s way. His escrima sticks are knocked from hands with a single swing of one of his water-bearers. The other takes the form of a blade.

Nightwing bites down on the capsule he’s had tucked into his cheek since Kaldur’s assault on Cape Canaveral began just as he feels ice-cold water against his costume. The water carefully winds around his ribcage before jutting out behind him.

_ “Nightwing!” _

Nightwing falls back, the pill taking effect almost immediately. Batgirl rushes to him, cracking open a blood packet before Superboy and Miss Martian reach them. He hears his friends  _ pleading  _ for him to hold on through the psychic link, feels hands trying to staunch the flow of blood from a wound that isn’t there.

Then, everything fades to black.

* * *

Hours later, Dick returns to the warehouse with a duffle bag over his shoulder. Sneaking out of the Watchtower hadn’t been easy―he’s not entirely sure how Barbara managed to drag in a dummy to take his place without anyone noticing, but he didn’t have the time to ask. He  _ barely  _ had time to say goodbye after she had filled him in on what happened after he lost consciousness, but after everything they had been through together… he felt he owed Barbara at least that much.

Dick takes out a pendant from his jacket pocket―a small golden stone dangling from a short silver chain. He hadn’t exactly been up front about its true purpose, but then again, Zatanna didn’t have any reason to ask. As far as she knew, the glamour charm was an occasional tool he used for his work in Blüdhaven.

She’ll probably hate him for using her work in such a deceptive way. That thought hurts, but he can only hope it’ll be worth it in the end.

When Kaldur makes his presence known, the two of them depart the warehouse and board the Manta-Sub waiting at the end of the dock. The manta troopers waiting within show no sign that they recognize him―neither as Dick Grayson, the eldest son of Bruce Wayne who faded into obscurity when he moved out of Wayne Manor, nor Nightwing, the hero who died at the hand of one of his oldest friends―and instead offer a relatively professional greeting.

Kaldur wastes no time with introductions, instead leading Dick deeper into the vessel. They enter a dark room with six screens, where Black Manta stands at the center.

“Kaldur'ahm,” Manta greets. He’s careful to retain a level of professionalism, but Dick detects the pride he feels towards his son. “Would this be the recruit you spoke of?”

“Yes, father,” Kaldur says. He glances to Dick, prompting him to step forward. “This is Talon.”

“Though I trust my son’s judgement,” Manta says, “the rest of the Light are less inclined to agree, especially given the nature of your… organization.”

Dick smiles. “Whether or not you believe the urban legends surrounding us is irrelevant to me. In time, I’m sure you’ll find that I can be  _ very  _ useful to your cause.”

Manta returns the smiles. “Your confidence is admirable. Rest assured, you’ll get your opportunity to prove yourself to my colleagues. Until then―”

He offers a hand. Dick reaches out, giving it a firm shake.

“―welcome aboard.”


End file.
